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raincode-archives · 5 months

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Chapter 4 Loading Screen Trivia

Note: Currently, I do not know which of these trivia may be general game trivia or Chapter 4 exclusives (if there is any). And there may be trivia I'm currently missing that I will add later on, if I find any more.

World Detective Organization (WDO) An extra-legal, extra-privileged organization devoted to eradicating the world's unsolved mysteries.

Detective Deed An identification card. These are granted by the World Detective Organization.

Master Detective Among the detectives belonging to the World Detective Organization, this is a detective with a specialized power called Forensic Forte that aids in their investigative activities.

Forensic Forte Those exhibiting innate talent for special powers like clairvoyance or mind-reading are trained by the WDO to develop a supernatural investigative ability called Forensic Forte or simply, Forte.

Amaterasu Corporation Many products are in development, some of which cannot be made public.

Amaterasu Peacekeepers A department of Amaterasu Corporation. They serve as a sort of police force within Kanai Ward.

Kamasaki District Crime generally isn't bad here, unless you venture deeper inside, that is.

Riverbank Due to polluted waters, fish are rarely caught.

Kanai Station The only train station in Kanai Ward. It's a magnificent building, but seldom has customers because of the city's isolation.

Kanai Ward Living Condition Perhaps because of the daily rainfall, some people in Kanai Ward don't mind getting wet.

TV Programs Nearly all the TV programs broadcasted in Kanai Ward are sponsored by Amaterasu Corporation.

Popular Sports Parkour is popular among the young men of Kamasaki District. New problems have arisen however, what will all the trespassing and running across the top of food stalls.

Means of Communication Most communications to people outside of Kanai Ward are tapped and monitored by Amaterasu. The phone at the Nocturnal Detective Agency uses a different type of line to prevent eavesdropping.

Pets Because of Kanai Ward's unending rain, indoor pets are popular. At the same time, there is increasing concern of many dogs and cats become feral after being abandoned by irresponsible owners.

Kanai Ward's Electrical Power Because of the perpetual rain, electrical power is derived predominantly from rainwater.

Flavor of Halara's Candy Depends on the mood. The worse the mood, the sweeter the taste; the better the mood, the lighter the taste.

Fubuki's Accessories Fubuki's necklace has a clock motif. The choker is decorated with video playback control symbols.

Vivia's Book Catalog Novels, columns, essays, all sorts of things. There's no particular preference for genre; he reads just to pass time.

Vivia's Garments There are just bandage-like wrappings beneath his coat, so it wouldn't be accurate to call it clothing.

Amaterasu Corporation The megacorporation controlling Kanai Ward. It deals in a wide variety of goods such as industrial products, electronic appliances, as well as pharmaceuticals.

Kanai Ward Currently, Kanai ward is isolated from the rest of the world. Few people enter and leave and very little information goes beyond its walls.

Kanai Tower Lease agreements are available, but the monthly rent costs as much as a luxury car.

Ama-Pal Different versions of Ama-Pal exist, but among the scarce limited edition releases, there is evidently a bear variant with differently colored left and right sides.

Ama-Pay An electronic payment system courtesy of Amaterasu Corporation. It can be used at almost any shop in Kanai Ward, but rumor has it the company collects personal data from each transaction.

Popular Appliances Indoor dryers are very popular in Kanai Ward. Amaterasu Corporation's new "Kagutsuchi" model is quite excellent, capable of drying any type of laundry in just two hours.

Amaterasu's Latest Products A drone car that will autonomously deliver you from departure...to tomorrow. "Amenotorifune." Coming soon from Amaterasu Corporation.

Amaterasu's Latest Products Fall asleep in an instant.... And slumber for eight hours without waking up...no matter what... "Snoozewell," coming soon from Amaterasu Corporation.

Amaterasu Lab Research facilities located in the underground section of the Amaterasu Corporation. Access to the lab is highly restricted, even among Amaterasu personnel.

Amaterasu Security Entry to the premises requires employee IDs, as well as biometric authentication via retinal scans, making it practically impossible for outsiders to infiltrate Amaterasu Corporation.

Blank Week Mystery A phrase considered taboo in Kanai Ward. The meaning of the phrase is unclear

Makoto's Masks The mask is different ever morning, depending on his mood. Sometimes it takes him more than 30 minutes to choose, to the chagrin of the people around him.

About Dr. Huesca He walks around barefoot in the lab. This isn't for anything health-related, he simply feel the time spent putting on shoes and socks is better used on research.

Robot Researcher Akira is his name. He's poured his whole being into Ama-Pal, his life dedicated to its development. His catchphrase: "When my time comes, I want it to be by Ama-Pal's hand."

Fink the Slaughter Artist A hitman predominantly active in Kanai Ward. It's rumored that he'll kill any target, regardless of difficulty, as long as the client can afford it.

Yomi's Cane Yomi's cane transforms into a whip and can be used to strangle people he isn't fond of.

Shinigami's Secret Depending on Shinigami's emotional state, not only can horns and a tail sprout out, but her entire body can take on a fiery form.

Amazing Physique Number One of the WDO may look wizened, but beneath his robe is a muscle-bound body, compared to that of a youth's. It's littered in scars following encounters with a variety of criminals.

Invention Detective A Master Detective whose Forte allows for on-the-spot assembly of inventions useful for an investigation. This detective was not summoned to Kanai Ward.

#mdarc #master detective archives rain code #rain code #raincode #rain code archives #makoto kagutsuchi #dr huesca #yomi hellsmile #shinigami #number one

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stuffems · 8 months

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Leftovers

The sun was rolling low over the blockaded horizon, skyscrapers casting long and all-consuming shadows over the streets of the Industrial Sector. As the building lacked windows that weren’t blocked off, the only signal that Findlay even knew that it was late was based on the evening weather report. He’d been toiling away at a scrapped monitor for a majority of the day and only recalled eating take-out for breakfast, hence why his stomach was screaming at him. Of course, it wasn’t the only thing screaming in his head.

“Hungry. Food. Hungry.” The parasite rattled off over and over like a mantra in the whitette’s head.

“Shut up. I’ll get dinner later.” Finn mentally snapped back. “I’m busy.”

“Hungry. Hungry. Hungry.”

“Shut. Up.”

“Hungry. Hungry. Hungry-“

“SHUT IT. FINE! I’ll get food if you’ll leave me alone.” He snarled, tossing aside the screwdriver he was working with.

Getting to his feet, Finn would make his way over to the somewhat clear desk that possessed a few papers with schematics on them as well as the menu for the take-out place nearby. He picked up the menu to refresh his memory for what they’d carried at this particular location. It was a hole-in-the-wall type place that offered a mixture of east and west Asian foods as well as cheap bottles of drink to go with them.

Only after looking it over did Finn realize that he still had leftovers from breakfast in the mini fridge. Setting the menu down again, he moved over to the mini fridge up against the wall to reveal that there was still half a container of noodles left to eat.

“This’ll do.” He mumbled, pulling out the container.

“Hungry.” The parasite droned once again in the whitette’s head.

“Yeah yeah yeah, shut up. I’m getting it.” He huffed back.

Thankfully it didn’t take very long to heat it up before Finn could finally quell the whining in his head. Carrying the bowl over to the spot he typically sits watching television, he willed the channel to change to something a bit more entertaining. There wasn’t much in the way of interesting cartoons but it may as well do.

Findlay dug in, eating mindlessly while he watched the program go on. The noodles were fairly thin and were mixed in with faux shrimp as well as a variety of vegetables, so reheating put an odd aftertaste on things but not enough to dissuade him from eating. Even though he was indeed hungry, he didn’t want to go eating today just yet. The downside of the parasite was that it typically ate up every bit of food he consumed in less than an hour which meant he’d be hungry far more often than most. This particular meal would hardly make a dent in appetite though.

It didn’t take very long before he finished the bowl of noodles to set it aside while he finished watching the cartoon in front of him. Even though he’d eaten, his stomach still twisted with hunger for some reason. Eventually, he got up out of irritation and went to retrieve the menu from the table. Another bowl of noodles and some chicken should be enough, he figured.

Thankfully, it didn’t take long for the food to be delivered and a tip was provided before Finn scurried back to his spot in front of the television to eat. With a small bottle of soda and his two orders, he continued watching the marathon of cartoons playing on the screen.

The noodle dish he’d ordered was the same as the one that he had leftovers from but the chicken order had a bit more to it. The faux meat was coated in a sweet sauce and mixed in with vegetables as well as slices of pineapple. Normally, it was a fairly heavy meal all together and would often leave leftovers for breakfast the next day but today was different.

Within around an hour, each and every bit of both orders were consumed and, thankfully, the parasite’s craving was sated for now. Of course, this left Findlay in a less than stellar state. His stomach was packed full and stuck out prominently from beneath his tank top. There was a blush of pink dusted on it from the strain of eating as much as he had. With pale hands, he attempted to rub circles into his stomach to ease the pain. It hardly helped and thus he laid back onto the floor with his gaze fixated on the ceiling to take his mind off of it.

“Safe. Full.” The parasite would hum quietly in the back of the whitette’s mind.

“Shut. Up.” Finn groaned.

This would be a long night.

#belly #stuffing #belly expansion #bellyache

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wutwutno1 · 7 months

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Borrower Drones!

Worker Drone Life Cycle (Trust me, this is important)

Some worker drones start off life as a pod; a gridiron football-shaped object that houses a tiny drone body, called an “unborn,” inside. This pod acts like a baby for nine days, during which it’s supposed to be fed with JCJenson brand drone food. This causes the tiny drone inside to grow. The unborn is suspended inside the pod via two immiscible fluids.

After the nine days of growth are complete, the pod hatches into a tiny child drone. This child drone will grow over the course of three to five months into a full-grown “living worker drone.” These drones can be pre-programmed with a personality or can randomize the personality from two worker drones (regardless of gender and type.)

Living worker drones act closer to humans than their industrial counterparts. They are more expressive and house more emotions. They also have programmable personalities, however, all of them get uncomfortable when not wearing clothes and will actively seek clothing when necessary.. These drones act as a cross between a pet and a friend for humans, especially those who want children but can’t have, can’t afford or aren’t ready for any. Living worker drones don’t have a lifespan as long as they are provided with drone food, and aren’t outright killed, they have the capacity to live forever due to self-healing. (All the young drones, Nori, Yeva, Butler N, and Maid V are this type of worker.)

Industrial worker drones however are built pre-made. They’re stronger and have dulled down, but still expressable, emotions. They have an aptitude for fixing problems and pick up concepts and techniques easily. They are goal-oriented and very loyal. (Khan, The Teacher, Alice, and Maid J are this type of worker.)

Borrower Drones

Inside the pods, the unborn is attached to the shell via a “growth control module,” a thin black cord whose whole purpose is to prevent the drone from growing too quickly or slowly while in the pod. These modules detach when the drone hatches.

However, sometimes the module detaches early, often through excessive forces applied between the unborn and the shell. This causes the unborn to not grow as time progresses, and after nine days are hatched as tiny drones that don’t grow.

Borrower drones are often scrapped upon hatching due to being defective. However, some are kept as their human owners find them cute. These drones often have to make their own clothes or wear doll clothes. These drones quickly adapt to their size and create grappling hooks and roped harpoons out of small household items like thread, floss, pins, and even pebbles. They are usually experts at parkour and freerunning. They often carry weapons as pets like cats and dogs can be deadly to a borrower drone if they’re not careful. Borrower drones are often more at risk for the Absolute Solver as damage to the growth control module can cause damage within the drone's programming. (Doll, Uzi, and Cyn are all borrower drones.)

#murder drones #Borrower Drones AU #murder drones uzi #murder drones n #murder drones doll #murder drones v #murder drones j #murder drones nori #murder drones khan #murder drones yeva #murder drones teacher

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darksideofthemamon · 5 months

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The Ballad of Songbirds and Snakes movie vs book trivia

When I heard that The Ballad of Songbirds And Snakes was getting a movie, I was excited. Excited, but, a bit worried because as much as I liked the book, it was kinda long and did drag in some parts. I was worried how this would be onscreen.

Turns out they found a way to make it work! The 10th Hunger Games was way more action-packed in the movie than it was in the books, and that kept me engaged as a viewer.

On that note, here are some book-movie comparisons and trivia! This isn't a criticism nor is it a complete list. It's just a fun trivia post because I found the differences fascinating and need to ramble

Full spoilers for both book and movie!

First-scene cannibalism

I don't recall them getting into this in the movie, so here's some trivia: the guy who commits cannibalism at the very start of the movie is, in the book, the Snows' neighbor Nero Price, a titan in the railroad industry, and Tigris and Coriolanus recognize the person whose leg he was sawing off as the maid of the Cranes (whom the Snows also knew).

Nero has a daughter who is Coriolanus's classmate and fellow mentor in the 10th Hunger Games, Persephone Price. She and Coriolanus's best friend, Festus Creed, become close, which grosses Coriolanus out to no end.

[Festus and Persephone had] been spending time together, trying to come up with a joint strategy for their tributes, and Coriolanus could see that Festus was falling for her. Did you tell your best friend his crush was a cannibal? Never a rule book when you needed one.

2. Felix Ravinstill doesn't die in the book

The one who dies originally from the bombing is another classmate, a minor character named Gauis Breen.

This is one of the changes in the film that I think enhanced it! It's just a lot more impactful if the death of the president's son is what pushes Dr. Gaul to unleash the rainbow snakes.

3. Clemensia's fate, Coriolanus's offenses

"You're quite the rebel." "I'm bad news, alright"

It surprised me quite a bit when this happened pretty early on in the film. In the book, stealing food from the Academy is a major offense, and Coriolanus doesn't take to being called a rebel until after Clemensia gets bitten by Dr. Gaul's snakes (an event that really shook his belief in the Capitol as it showed him that even Capitol children were, in fact, not safe from the Capitol).

In the movie though, he does it before visiting Lucy Gray in the zoo (the same scene where Arachne dies).

On that note, the movie only shows the compact and hankerchief as his damning evidence. The book includes the napkin he stole from the Academy that got lost in the bombing.

4. Weaponized drones

In the movie, Coriolanus spams water bottles to distract the other Tributes from Lucy Gray. In the book, weaponizing a drone was a tactic used by the District 3 tributes, Circ and Teslee.

5. Lysistrata is more proactive in the books

In the movie, Coriolanus needs to ask Lysistrata to weaponize water against her own tribute, Jessup.

The book not only has Lysistrata display more knowledge of medicine (as her parents are President Ravinstill's personal physicians), but also has her be the one to initiate protecting Lucy Gray from Jessup.

In the film, Coriolanus says "Send him a drone." In the book, Lysistrata says "No, let me. He's my tribute, after all." (Then Coriolanus tries to refuse, but she insists).

6. Lamina was portrayed as more "impressive" in the book

I found this one really fascinating as I was watching it play out.

Lamina, at the start of the movie, was always crying. Then she climbed a beam and killed Marcus.

The physicality of climbing up that beam is treated as more impressive in the books, with Lamina's surprising strength, agility, and balance being attributed to her coming from the lumber district, District 7. After mercy-killing Marcus, she stays up on the beam, which is acknowledged as a good strategy, implying that she might actually win.

It wasn't a bad strategy. Safer than on the ground, for sure. She had a plan. She could kill. In less than an hour, Lamina had redefined herself as a contender in the Games.

While Lamina does all these in the film, less attention is called to it.

I liked that in the book because it showed us how swiftly tributes can go from underdogs to contenders with skills apart from brute strength.

7. Dill and Wovey's deaths get swapped

Another good change they made for the movie!

In the book, Dill (District 11) dies of natural causes (tuberculosis) while Wovey (District 8) dies of Lucy Gray's rat poison. We don't see Lucy Gray's reaction to this.

But in the movie, Wovey dies from the snakes, while Dill drinks poisoned water, which we see Lucy Gray's regretful reaction to.

I think this was such an impactful change they made for the movie. Why? Because Dill is District 11's female tribute... just like Rue. Except in the 74th Hunger Games, District 12 female (Katniss) regrets not being able to save Rue. In the 10th, Lucy Gray regrets accidentally killing Dill.

8. Treech does not die from rat poison in the book

He instead dies from one of Dr. Gaul's poisonous snakes that Lucy Gray kept in her pocket. On that note...

9. Snakes were not the climax (Reaper was)

The Games don't end with everyone covered in rainbow snakes. Some of the tributes survive, and the next day most of the snakes are dead (because some muttations don't survive well out of the lab).

Rainbow snakes made for a great climax though! Additionally...

10. Coral was not the final boss/main rival in the book (Reaper was)

Though she was a deadly opponent, she wasn't the last one Lucy Gray had to fight. In the movie, Coral dies from rainbow snakes, all while pleading with Lucy Gray, while Reaper accepts his fate as the snakes get him.

In the book, Coral dies from the snakes, but Reaper survives. Then there's a bit of a waiting game the next day until Reaper drinks from a puddle of poisoned water. All that said...

11. Lucy Gray flat-out wins in the book

But in the movie, Dr. Gaul was ready to kill all the tributes with her snakes, but then Coriolanus, backed by the student body, shouted for her to let Lucy Gray go. And she does.

This was such a great change for the movie because not only was it more climactic, but it very much reminds us of the power audience reaction has over the Hunger Games ("if it weren't for the baby", and such)

#hunger games #the ballad of songbirds and snakes #spoilers #just my thoughts #darksideofthemamon

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gabelish · 23 days

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crawls into your ask box like the girl from the ring. so i noticed you made a post about death stranding and what it says (or does not say/is not able to say) about labor and i haven't been able to stop thinking about that subject all during my playthrough but i don't have the vocabulary for it and was wondering if you had any other thoughts

Hi I have way too many thoughts about this but I tried to keep it short. I am assuming you’re referring to my joke about Drone Syndrome and Marx’s alienation theory.

We have no information as to what happened to the delivery workers pre-Stranding when drones took their jobs. Was there mass unemployment? Did people lose their homes? Did the government give them universal basic income and pay them to stay home or pursue passions (probably not)? Did they get retrained for a new field? All we know is that they developed Drone Syndrome which seems analogous to the theory of alienation.

But Death Stranding takes the alienation of labor further. It isn’t about people seeing little value in their exploited labor but people having no value because the have no labor and becoming depressed and developing hormonal imbalances. Without any labor to do at all, the delivery workers became miserable in the same way workers are when being alienated from their labor when they’re being exploited in industrialized work owned by someone else. There’s no choice, no sense of fulfillment, no sense of value, no connection. The game lore calls putting the delivery workers back in the process a step back from progress but for whatever reason doesn’t offer an alternative for what those workers could have been doing. Robots freeing people from drudgery could be good but only if those workers are able to transition into different work, or are supported without working, and not be financially ruined. We don’t know what mechanisms existed for this suddenly extinct labor field in universe. Not to mention how restless and bored many people irl get when they aren’t at work or doing basic household tasks. People want to contribute to things, people want to feel important, needed, like what they’re doing has value or impact.

There is another omission in the lore that’s interesting as well. Is there money post-Stranding? Many games have a pseudo-economy in them as a way to upgrade your abilities or gear. But in Death Stranding you get better gear by increasing your connection level with different facilities. Sam never gets paid, and no one talks about money. Igor never says “y’know corpse disposal is a dangerous job but it pays well”. Everyone seems to be motivated either out of a desire to help other humans or for personal reasons, nothing financial at all.

Post-Stranding, it was impossible to use autonomous delivery drones or planes anymore and the delivery workers who became porters were literally the most essential of essential workers so preppers and people living in cities did not die from lack of medicine or food. This sudden increase in the value of their labor caused some some of them swing the complete opposite way—developing Delivery Dependence Syndrome, becoming MULEs, contaminated by Chiralium. Literally a different class of human beings altogether, homo gestalts. The fact that they want the cargo itself simply to hoard and no longer care about delivering it to who needs it is important. That’s the breakdown. It’s no longer about helping people but simply getting things. They don’t even sell the cargo, they just keep it.

Lore-wise, the best way for porters to mitigate DDS caused by chiralium contamination was to join an organization like Fragile Express or Bridges, where the organization��s leadership, structure, support, and resources could alleviate the symptoms by increasing oxytocin production through human interaction or with smartdrugs.

Considering how anti-isolationist and anti-rugged individualism the game in, it’s clear Death Stranding is telling us being a part of a community is far better than doing it alone, and it isn’t trying to shit on self-employed labor or uplift corporatized mass organized labor, especially since there seems to be no profit motivation behind Fragile Express or Bridges. Porters are simply middle-men, filling a vital role in the post-Stranding society.

People go by nicknames based on their labor. Craftsman, Engineer, Roboticist, Novelist, etc. Sam’s name changes from Sam Strand (family) to just Sam (no family no connections) to Porter Bridges (labor and connection). Identity has become inextricably linked to labor that has once again become fulfilling. Everyone seems aware how vital their role is in the survival of humanity. Medicine and weapons aren’t all we deliver, but books and art, too. Although Sam himself is disillusioned with his labor and the world, but that’s a different topic.

Porters (and preppers) are the opposite of alienated from their labor. They know their labor is crucial to the survival of other human beings. Porters can choose the routes to deliver packages, can rest whenever they want, and aren’t doing it to make someone who owns the means of production richer. Preppers provide Sam with mutually-rewarding upgrades to his equipment, increasing his chance of survival, and humanity’s. They may not even get a wage from it, but do it because it is fulfilling, because they know other human beings depend on them. Their labor has objective value and is highly prized in the post-Stranding society. There’s no enriching shareholder value and, presumably, no money. Porters leave ladders, ropes, structures, and post-boxes filled with items for other porters simply to help each other out.

#death stranding

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battlekilt · 7 months

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Last line!

RULES: The last nine lines written or drawn of any WIP or content. Fanfic, meta, sketch.

@razzbberry, thank you for the tag.

This isn't quite my last new line, but it is the last line I edited, along with the lines before and after that brings it up to the required amount... +1, but it just was wrong not to include it.

From the aft end of the catafalque* barge, Captain Rex stood at his self-assigned post in good company. Without any witnesses to bear their indiscretions, the three officers ignored military propriety and decorum… Or at least, one of them ignored convention, and the other two… allowed it. Jedi General Skywalker stood on the Captain’s left, and Marshal Commander Cody stood on his right. “May the flame of those who pass before us, light our way,” Cody beseeched the sea. Added to the wind with his throat tightened, “Good-bye, [REDACTED1]. You were a good soldier. [REDACTED2], the [REDACTED1]’s in charge,” then sighed the vice in his chest, and added with empty lungs, "Until we meet again, troopers." He swayed on his feet, and knocked shoulders with Rex. Together, the three men stood in eulogic vigilance, with the mechanical drone of the barge’s many industrial pumps that spewed its sanguineous silage into the currents. It churned in the ship’s wake, spread ribbons of pinky foam behind the graceless barge. Deposited across the area, the bioremnant** batch enriched the environment—specifically, the swarm of tiny krill eager for the food, and encouraged by the (warmer) season. Where krill massed, the herring came, and eventually… It was grim what became of a soldier in death. It was pitiful how small a soldier became. And it was certainly grotesque the final fate of a soldier. Yet, somehow, Rex still found it… almost perfect. At last, the rain came. A promise made, a promise fulfilled. The sky started with the smallest droplets scattered about. And Kamino… cried its sacrament for its fallen sons. Finally, at last, it was… perfect.

*Catafalque: a decorated platform or framework on which a coffin rests in state during a funeral.

**Bioremnant: biological material. (my word)

NOTE #1. Yes. this is a funeral. A funeral at sea.

tag: @s0ftand0nly @isaakandreyevs @sillyzombiedelusion @mamuzzy @insertmeaningfulusername @arianeemorythethird @liaonyxrayne @sunbit3 @marvelstars

Even just sharing this is making me emotional again.

This is such a cathartic moment for the three men.

(This is all meta and characterization within my own world-building.)

Cody receives shipments of troop troops, he sends into battle. If they stay with him it is because they've survived. He trains them up, and divides most of the seasoned 212thers into his specialty units, like the 501st and the 104th. Cody gets to keep very few veterans for himself.

The Commander also ships the others back home... in body bags. He's never had a chance to witness the after of their receipt. But, it just isn't there way. Worry not for the dead, but for the living. The Clones don't dwell on the physical remnants after death; they are far too much like their makers in this.

Anakin's struggled because there's been a good-bye. The brutal, utilitarian relationship the Clones have with the dead reminds him too much of how Slavers regarded deceased slaves; bodies are worthless if they cannot work, so it is unceremoniously tossed aside.

And Rex? He has a promise made, and a promise to keep.

NOTE #2: Clones find complicated funeral rites, grieving rituals, and any preoccupation with physical remains morbid, and an abomination.

#kilt's tag games #clone: cody #kilt's writing #au: rexx #clone king #jedi: skywalker

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steviewashere · 2 months

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Lighthouse

Pairing: Platonic Steve Harrington & Robin Buckley Rating: General CW: None Apply! Tags: Post Canon, Post Season Four, Robin Buckley Has Nightmares, Steve Harrington Has Nightmares, Robin Buckley is a Sweetheart, Steve Harrington is a Sweetheart, Platonic Cuddling & Snuggling, Mild Hurt/Comfort

🦦—————🦦

Being friends with Steve Harrington is one of Robin Buckley’s favorite pastimes.

It doesn’t matter where she is or what she’s doing, as long as Steve is by her side. She’d give up everything at the snap of fingers if it meant she still got to be friends with him. And, maybe that’s too clingy or co-dependent or what say you, but she thinks it’s the best thing in the world. To be his friend. She’s never been best friends with somebody like him, where she is chosen every time, and he makes sure she knows that.

He takes her on drives, long ones, short ones, ones that loop, ones that stretch. In turn, she has sizzling hot gossip about the ghosts of his past. “Did you hear that Tommy and Carol broke up? Yeah—His brother, you know him, he’s in my graduating class—Said that Tommy knocked some girl up. I know! It’s a whole thing.” Yeah, she’s really good at finding the stuff that riles him up and ruffles his feathers and blows the socks right off his feet. And he’s amazing to talk to. She’s usually not one for chats, considering how her mouth will wander, but something about him is able to keep up. He keys in with his own reactions or will mimic what she’s doing. Steve even prompts her by asking curious questions and getting facts wrong, which she knows that he knows what he’s talking about—he just seems to enjoy keeping her talking.

Steve is her favorite pastime because at every hangout and within every conversation, there’s something new to learn about him. He doesn’t like silence, it reminds him of his lonely growing up and his stupid absent parents. The pool is a sore spot and she joins him in solidarity, sneering at the cold blue water, nose upturned on the back porch. His interests are limited, but he loves to talk about them. Baseball cards, Sports Illustrated magazines, Archie comic books, car parts, and history are his favorites. He’s amazing at math, just hated how teachers droned. He’s so incredibly intelligent, but will act otherwise if it gives the people around him something to laugh about.

He is selfless.

He is lovely.

He is her best friend.

Tonight, Steve Harrington is also the beacon of light that douses the shadows of another Upside Down tinged nightmare. The lighthouse to her dangerous ocean. And she is the ship guided to safety.

They were having a sleepover for the one year anniversary of the day they didn’t die in that cold bunker. He had provided some food. Warm, bubbling, gooey lasagna. And he lent her a pair of industrial level earplugs. Even turned on a couple of box fans to drown out any other noise. His bed is big enough for the two of them, to share the same blanket, and wrap around each other like frightened kittens new to the world.

It all wasn’t enough, though, and she woke up sweating, gasping, and sobbing. Her body frozen and eyes darting. Tears flooding her vision. She couldn’t tell her reality from the nightmare, everything was dark and everything was loud and all of it was too cold. She couldn’t free herself, much like she couldn’t move on that chair, tied up to what she thought was a corpse. And for all she knows, the worlds bleeding together, Steve isn’t alive.

But where there are shadows, however bleak they may be, there is the sure tell of light. In the form of a comfortable weight brushing over her head. Combing through her tacky, knotted hair. Soothingly massaging in little circles over her scalp. A sound nestled in the chaos of it all. So quiet and hesitant and small. Like a breeze tickling through fallen leaves in dew wet grass. It is hushing, it is whispering, and overall it’s nurturing.

“‘Eve?” She mumbles. Her chest concave and her fingers trembling. Face wet with tears. Cheeks burning and lips chapped and mouth undeniably dry. “‘Eve, are you there?” She croaks.

“I’m here, Robbie,” he responds. Light on the rocks. There are rocks and they are wet. “I’m next to you, Robbie. Right next to you,” he murmurs, blanket soft and cushioned. The rocks are wet and they are jagged.

She steers her gaze, to the shoreline, to the beach. His face is mere inches away from hers. Eyes dark in the inky blackness of his bedroom, though shiny and large. Light towards the shoreline and she is veering, away from the rocks. From the shadows. The jagged lines and oncoming collision. Robin follows the darker parts of his face, more noticeable with the differences in shades. His moles are the first thing she finds, scattered and varying in shape. And then his eyelashes, fluttering on his cheeks every time he blinks. Steve’s eyebrows, dense towards the bridge of his nose, lighter near the outer corners of his eyes. He’s beautiful and here and alive. With that, she allows herself to break once more.

Silently, though. A wobbling smile. And she allows him to shift his palm to her face. Instead of petting her hair, he brushes the tears. Slow with his thumb. Barely pressing into her skin to collect the fat tear droplets. Swiping them towards her ear. She allows herself to breathe, to go boneless against the mattress again, head still lolled on her pillow. Face open and pleasant towards Steve.

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve hesitates.

For how loud they can be, with gossiping and arguing over movies and butting in about each other’s dating lives, he is quiet when necessary. Always soft and welcoming in the darkness of it all. She knows it’s because he’s lived in this chaos for so long. He knows it. He’s breathed it. He is selfless.

“Scoops nightmare,” she whispers. Closes her eyes and swallows. The saliva clicking in her throat. She’ll ask for water later. “They—Those men killed you.”

His hand is still on her face, but it’s stilled. He tangles his other hand with one of hers. Their fingers bent in odd ways. Using his thumb to trace over her fingernails. Can probably tell, even in the dark, where she’s began to pick away at her nail polish. She thinks about letting him repaint them. About them wearing matching colors. Like temporary friendship bracelets. Something to show perseverance, willing to do over and over and over again. For however long they have left together. He is lovely.

Robin swallows heavily again. “Tied you to me. Your head kept rolling forward. You were limp,” she relays, voice cracking. “When I finally could get out, I went to check on you. Even though Dustin and Erica were screaming at me to leave. But I couldn’t.” Her eyes reopen, locked on with Steve’s. He has kind eyes. They’re expressive. And they are sad. “You were cold,” she whispers, “and you were a mess of loose limbs. And I couldn’t save you.”

She closes her eyes again and breathes deeply. His hands are warm and—in a tad disgusting way—sweaty on her skin. His breathing is loud, wheezing out of his nostrils. He’d broken his nose before, it never set quite right. He’ll always breathe awkwardly. Robin senses the way he swallows, like a lump is in his throat or maybe he needs water, too. He wraps his arms around her, one under her head and the other thrown over her shoulders. Tugging her in close. Against her forehead, where it falls in this crowded, warm embrace, his heart is beating. Thu-thump, thu-thump, thu-thump. He is alive.

“I’ve got you, Robbie. I’m here,” he mutters. She drapes a loose arm over his waist. Hand going to his back, the t-shirt tacky with sweat and clinging to his skin. He’s such a furnace. God, he’s warm and alive.

“I know,” she whispers. “And I love you for it.”

“Love you for it, too.” His breath shutters a little bit.

“Did you have a nightmare, too? Is that why you were already awake?” She finds herself asking. She doesn’t have a filter, not really. But he never seems to mind.

“Yeah,” he wetly murmurs, “like yours. You were dead.” He squeezes them impossibly closer. His whole body flexes with the movement. They are tangled from head to toe. A mess of muscles and warmth and shaking breaths. Of chipped nail polish and shared sweatpants. Earplugs and nightmares. Both alive. “But I have you. I have you.”

She nods, or at least moves her head like it. “I have you, too. We’ll be okay.” He nods back. And she holds on tighter. There’s the shoreline and the sun is bright and the water is warm. She is awake and alive and he is, too. “Wanna get some water?” She asks.

“Sure,” he answers, already detangling them. His hand stays wrapped in hers, though. She refuses to completely pull away. She thinks about otters. Of them floating on the water. Safely intertwined with one another, never drifting, always there.

“I have gossip about Tommy Hagan again, do you want to hear it?”

He snorts. “Of course I fucking do.”

They are alive. They are best friends.

And Steve Harrington is her favorite pastime because he refuses to let go.

🦦—————🦦

#stranger things #stobin #platonic stobin #platonic soulmates #stobin friendship #steve harrington #robin buckley #mild hurt/comfort

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greenhorizonblog · 5 months

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Join The GreenHorizon Movement!

For a more Solarpunk future

Hey everyone! This is an introduction to GreenHorizon, a movement of necessity for making our world beautiful, green, kind, safe and thriving for all of us.

You would be shocked how many people get extremely angry at me for even suggesting this as a possibility. In our current world, having hope is a radical thing.

The situation in the world now, is so dire there is no ignoring it anymore. Even for me; and I come from relative privilege, to be transparent with you. I'm feeling increasingly worried in very real terms. We have to do this now. I for one can't live with myself if I don't at least try. I want to be able to say I did everything I could to help save us. To save all life on this beautiful unique planet, that might be the only one of its kind.

Is this overconfident and a bit crazy? Maybe. Do we care? No lol. Someone has to try. Someone has to make a first real iteration of a possible and tangible solution. It might as well be us. I hope you'll join. We're going to need your help.

This is an amalgamation of several years of independent interest and study of many different subjects relating to sustainability, ecology, anthropology, history and social justice etc. The authors and creators whose work and content I have studied and been inspired by will be listed in the full guide, which will be out as soon as possible. I have also been inspired by many of you here on tumblr, in the solarpunk sphere.

Here's what the movement stands for:

Permaculture: We advocate for permaculture through food forests and chinampas etc. where nature's symbiotic relationships provide abundance as they always have. It's much more resilient, more productive and is a long term gift for future generations.

Human Rights: We stand firmly behind the advancement of women, children, LGBT+, neurodivergent and disabled people's etc rights. Recognising our integral roles in building a just and equitable society with accommodations to make our lives easier. Also, all healthcare, education, food, water and housing would be free. These are all necessary for human life and should never have been monetised to begin with.

Animal Rights: Protecting the rights of our fellow beings and promoting a world where animals and their habitats are respected and unviolated through rewilding, restoration and ranger drone patrols, as well as strongly scaling down, if not ending all industrial animal agriculture.

Mutual Aid: Embracing a mutual aid/gifting/volunteering based society/culture. We aim to dismantle the out dated notions of profit motive, commerce, currency and the stock market. Fostering a spirit of generosity, solidarity and cooperation instead. Living by the hippocratic oath in a sense.

Decentralized Governing: The government would be small, direct democratically elected and only in charge of defence of the nation from outside forces and representation on the world stage etc. The nation (UK in my case) would be a union of tribes where the majority of decisions would be based on local community consensus, the principles of this movement and doing minimum harm. You would belong to three tribes in a sense. Your local, your city and your national (country) tribe. All humans used to live in tribes, so this will feel like coming home. And no, it won't be like cults. There won't be any one leader of the tribes, they won't be competitive, and members can come and go as they please, and join another tribe should they wish etc.

Sustainable Transportation: We advocate for the gradual shift from car-culture to efficient and eco-friendly solutions such as walking, trains and bicycles, greatly reducing our environmental and noise pollution. Walking and biking for local, trains for longer distances. We would still have planes for international travel, which would be developed with time to be zero emission. Some cars would be used to transport things within cities, during night time where there are much fewer pedestrians and bikes. Also in the countryside while new train lines and bike highways are being built. There won't be trams and buses if it's up to me though, sorry. Because they require a lot of maintenance, materials, make a lot of noise, are virus spreading hotspots, and are a risk to bike and pedestrian safety. Disabled people can get around via electric special bikes, electric wheelchairs and passenger bike taxis.

Community Building: Creating completely walkable neighbourhoods with tribes/communities of about 100 people each. Houses built of durable, natural, sustainable materials suited to the given climate, surrounded by nature, with communal cooking and shared tasks, many of which we would be automated with time and development. All amenities within easy walking distance. Where people check in on and look out for each other, with the added help from mediators. We are not meant to live among strangers. You can also join a different tribe at any time if you wish, you are not tied down in any way. You can also be a member of multiple tribes, if you like to be more nomadic.

Secular spirituality: Reconnecting with our need for narrative and meaning in our lives but without the dogma. Creating culture, rituals, ceremonies and celebrations of gratitude to nature and each other. Open to anyone, including people of other faiths. I will be writing a separate work on this.

Healing Humanity: It is so clear that the meaning of a human life is to do all the things that make a human life unique and worth living ie. spending time with friends and loved ones, pursuing something you’re truly passionate about, creating art, crafting, making music, reading, writing and telling stories, travelling, swimming, spending time in nature witnessing and being one with the sublime, playing with your kids, playing with your pets, having picnics, laughing so hard your face hurts, gardening, drinking tea/coffee, dressing up nice, getting a little drunk, dancing, singing and celebrating, commemorating, making love, doing a sport, learning a new language, building something, stargazing, falling in love, studying something just for the love of the subject, being part of a caring group of people and simply resting as much as your body truly needs. To experience this uniquely beautiful and strange world as a human being is actually a big privilege. Let's make it feel like so again.

All of this and much more will be covered in more detail in the guide/manifesto that will be published soon.

Thanks to @andrew-ism for providing a lot of inspiration for this.

Hit follow, reblog, share and stay tuned for more plans, ideas, stories, creations and other cool things as we work together to make the world as beautiful and thriving as it was always meant to be.

We will be opening to volunteers in the new year. Send us a dm if you're interested.

With much love and much hope

Ava

GreenHorizon Hope is the seed of progress

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frogspawned · 23 days

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this is such incredibly poor reasoning. biden is actively alienating his own party, you know, the thing he needs to have behind him to win, the people who want him to win this fucked up binary of bad options, to appeal to people who absolutely will not vote for him. who cares if they are stirred up! they don't like him anyways! they were never going to be swayed to the left, particularly in the current extremely polarized political climate in the united states. you're alienating your base for ZERO return. why are mainstream democrats always pulling this same tired routine? it has NEVER worked! you're just cutting away your own support, like some idiot sawing at his own rope while dangling over a cliff, because some of the other guy's might slip loose (spoiler they won't).

if trump wants to be the most pro-israel president in history, why are you competing with him for it? let him fucking die on that hill. your actual voters, your staff, the whole fucking world world are all BEGGING you to get off the hill.

"my opponent wants to wear the shit crown, but gosh, his followers -- who hate me viscerally and will never support me under any circumstances -- won't like it if i don't fight for the shit crown. oh well! guess i better wear it first!"

i'm already holding my fucking nose knowing i'm going to have to vote for this joke, because the alternative is the the same but worse! at least i can try to shame biden, and pressure him! we've moved the needle incrementally, and the momentum is building. too slow, but it is. the us abstained for the last UN vote for ceasefire. which is not enough, laughably paltry by any stretch, but at least it's creeping in the right direction. trump's going to continue to fund israel's war machine gleefully, with no hold's barred, if not ramp it up. he will actively enjoy any protest as red meat for his followers. because then he can whinge and posture and puff himself up. biden has an emotional attachment to the idea of israel? who gives a shit joe! maybe one should care more about the reality than the idea, and the reality is undeniable at this point. it's standing stark and naked before the world.

the reality is the united states has poured BILLIONS into a genocide machine who openly celebrates ethnic cleansing. idf soldiers put up selfies and funny tiktoks, and loot the homes of the palestinians they've slaughtered for the crime of existing on land they want. idf snipers target aid workers and doctors and children. they block food and medicine. they blow up trucks of flour. this is not speculation -- even if someone doesn't believe what their own eyes can see, every day, of the horrors pouring out of palestine, then take israel's word for it. they're proud of what their doing. they celebrate it. they snipe old women and beat old men to death, use children as bait for ambulance drivers, tear down homes and temples and mosques and centuries old olive groves then post it for their friends and family to see. they actively corroborate their own war crimes on tiktok.

but because it's easy, because the us has always done it, because it makes money for contractors and makes evangelicals giddy about the apocalypse, we'll just continue to pour anti tank rounds into their hands, missiles, drones, whatever tools they need to """mow the grass"""" in gaza. the military industrial complex has the us in an inescapable chokehold, in every facet of our lives, and god forbid we stop throwing lives and money and blood down the endless money hole. they might stop bombing people if we stop sending them bombs! and then how will israel sell that prime beach front property?

and in a decade we'll wring our hands and coo about what a tragedy it was, how sad, how inevitable, and throw up a fucking memorial in some park so we'll never forget.

#i am so angry i am so fucking angry it feels like my heart is going to tear itself out of my chest i can't fucking take this anymore FUCK #frog croaks

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alexbraindump · 8 months

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501-B - Chapter 1: Descent

“With the introduction of the brand-new line of Fysi-Apomi hyper-resilient plant life, even those of you out in the most remote corners of the galaxy may create your own little garden! Stuffed with all the nutrients one could need and capable of producing up to quadruple the fresh oxygen of regular plants, our new line of greenery can help improve your life on any industrialized planet.”

A holo-television. A simple piece of technology, light suspended in the air between two strips of projectors. Colors of such depth and motion of such smoothness to suggest reality unfolding right there before oneself. Upon this particular holo-TV, the visage of a well-dressed human woman in a lush greenhouse. Flowing blonde hair and a silky suit to build the impression of one to be trusted.

“As you can see here-” She took hold of a pot. From it grew a little berry bush. “Our wonderful plantlife is capable of sprouting all the food one could need!”

The view panned outwards into a wide shot of the greenhouse. There were trees bearing fruit and bushes bearing berries and sprouts from the ground bearing vegetables. The woman walked backwards to follow the camera panning.

“With Fysi-Apomi, you can-”

Ring-ring. There was a shrill sound across the room. A remote was picked up and pointed at the holo-TV. With a press of the power button, its display dissipated into thin air. A few floating particles of light lingered for seconds. Ring-ring. The remote was tossed down onto a coffee table dotted with empty soda cans, cups of microwave noodles and the disassembled mess of a gadget or two. From the couch arose a bipedal vulpine. He pulled a hood over his face, obscuring all but the end of his snout. Ring-ring.

Dusty boots clacked against metallic flooring as he made his way across the room. It was enclosed, made of metal all around. Piping and exposed wiring ran in bundles along the ceiling and walls. Opposing ends of the room terminated in doors, one of regular size and one of a cargo bay.

Ring-ring. The fox stood before the source of the ringing. A phone mounted to the wall. On its ID screen were the words “CALL FROM: MR. B.” He pulled the phone from its terminal and held it to his ear.

“Where in the name of the gods are you, Cade?!” squawked a shrill voice. “My contact is waiting for you!”

“None’a your business, man,” Cade bit back. “You’ll get everything you need, don’t you worry.”

“Scrapbots could be encroaching upon that ship as we speak-”

“Off my back, B, goddamn. I’m just about there.”

“Define ‘just about.’”

“Close enough that I’ve gotta hang up and get ready for entry now now. Byeeee!”

“We need that part, Cade! Don’t let this end up like-”

Cade slotted the phone back into its terminal. It was followed right up by another call from Mr. B. He removed the phone, slammed it back into place and then shut the terminal off completely. Both the terminal and holo-TV having gone blank, the only sound to accompany the room was a slight, electronic droning. Cade strode off back towards his TV.

Between the TV and the wall was an empty space. Just about enough to house a person. Cade stepped into it. He pulled up his sleeve, revealing a watch underneath. Upon lifting it towards the wall, a small chime of approval sounded off. The wall creaked for a moment, hissed out a puff of air and then slid open. Its movement was staggered and jittery, but upon completion a roomy compartment was revealed within.

Green. Lots of green. Plants lined the back of the compartment, blossoming vines spread up the walls and around the corners. There was a row of synthetic sunlight strips above them, flanked on either side by watering pipes. Droplets of water dripped from the nozzles. Cade reached in and began shuffling around the plants. His clawed paws tended to the plants with gentle grace. Branches were nudged back into place, dying leaves were snipped off.

On the compartment’s floor sat multiple leather pads. They were a dark shade of brown that mirrored Cade’s own fur. Next to them laid a handgun - contained in a leather holster. Five spare magazines were scattered around it. And off in the corner was a backpack propped up against the wall. Cade took a hold of it and set it down on the floor outside before continuing on tending to his garden.

Centralized amidst all the plants was a single flower, sat in a pot of its very own. Its pedals burned a bright red, a standout look amongst the green surrounding it. Cade investigated it with movements gentle enough not to wake a sleeping mouse. He pushed it around with as much ease as his paws could muster until finding a single wilting leaf on its stem. With a grumble, he snipped the leaf off. It fluttered down into a pile of dead plant matter gathering on the compartment’s floor.

Cade swiped a few bits of debris off the leather padding. A sigh escaped his lips as he took hold of the largest piece. It was a set of straps, ones that he fastened over his torso. They made up a belt around his waist and a slash that crossed his body diagonally. Another piece - surface marked with a burn - affixed onto the strap over his left shoulder. Cade stretched and flexed his body around, allowing the upper armor to slide into place.

The handgun and its holster clipped right onto Cade’s belt. Pockets stitched on the opposite end served as perfect housing for the magazines. And with that, Cade removed the last leather plate and hit a button on the compartment’s wall. Its door came hissing shut as it returned to an airtight seal with a satisfying little click, all the while Cade began on his way across the room.

The smaller of the doors opened as Cade approached it. Beyond it was a small cockpit. A whole array of windows lined the walls. Through them a planet could be seen straight ahead. Trailing wisps and puffy blots of gray filled the atmosphere and shadowed out the surface. A central chair swiveled itself around just as the door had finished opening.

Cade tossed himself into it, setting the chair off to turn back around and present its pilot with the ship’s controls. Display panels ignited with green light in response to the fox’s presence. Each screen was pure black with nothing but green text displayed on them. A central terminal beckoned Cade to begin inputting commands, but the fox instead opted to lift his right leg and rest it on the dashboard. The final leather pad fit snugly around his thigh. He gave it a little pat, lowered his leg and sat back up.

A keyboard was situated below the central terminal. Cade reached around the ship’s control stick and typed a command. A list appeared, a long one. Each entry was a string of random letters and numbers. Cade deliberated over the long list until settling upon one of the latter choices with a click of the enter key. 076-RDMPTN24.

The control stick’s position allowed Cade’s paws to slide right off the keyboard and take hold of it. Its ergonomic design slipped into one of his paws with ease. He flicked a switch on the base of it and then began tilting it forward. One of his feet applied light pressure to the rightmost of two pedals beneath the dashboard. His free paw reached off to the side of the cabin and flicked a handful of switches. The ship angled forward, ramping up the speed of its descent.

A small crackling sounded off beside Cade, prompting an ear to perk up and nearly push his hood off. He took his paw to a dial above him and began to twist it ever so slightly. The crackling came in and out, pulsing between loud and quiet. His movements became finer and finer until the sound had plateaued out into a consistent buzz. A voice was peeking through the haze, small glimpses given of something resembling words. Syllables struggling to coagulate into complete statements.

“W..elcome to…” A robotic twang drenched the voice. “BZZT… an industrial outpost… Now welcoming trad- BZZZZT… Quality index of- BZZT… Safety equipment… nearest arrival station- bzt…”

Silence. The signal died off with one last whimper of a beep. Cade attempted to twist the dial further, but got nothing but varying degrees of static in response. A small beep here and there maybe, but nothing of substance. A lost cause, he reasoned to himself as he gave his attention back to that which awaited outside the window.

Speed was building from Cade’s planetary approach. The white-speckled blackness of space vanished from the corners of his view, replaced by writhing clouds of gray. They only seemed to darken as his approach pressed on. Cade gave a check to the gauge cluster. Dials were increasing across the board, all except for planetary surface distance.

BOOM!

A crack of lightning caused Cade to jump in his seat. Storms announced their presence with great booms and thuds. Cade tightened his grip on the steering stick and allowed himself a deep breath. As if in response, turbulence jutted itself into the equation. Cade reached for his central dashboard and turned up a slider that was jury rigged into the wall and labeled “compartment stabilizer.” with a piece of tape. The ship was putting up its best attempt to level out, though even its best could generously be described as rocky.

Rain began speckling the glass. Cade flipped a lever and a pair of wipers began swiping in vertical motions. Almost like it was fighting back, the rain grew stronger. It grew stronger to the point that the default wiper speed failed to keep up. Cade clicked the speed up a notch. Not enough. Two notches, getting there. Three notches - as high as it would go - and they were hardly keeping the windows clear, though they offered just enough downtime to see through. Not that there was much to see beyond the whirling gray abyss of storm clouds.

Cade reached across his seat, grabbed the seat belt, and clicked it into place. His ship rattled and creaked, its computer systems beeping and crying in distress. The control stick was jolting around, necessitating Cade wrap his other paw around it. Yet even the strength of both his arms wasn’t enough to keep the ship under control. A particularly close arc of lightning sent his ship careening to the side. Cade yelped, the seatbelt barely managing to keep the fox from being flung across the cockpit. It was more than enough to break his grip on the control stick, though.

The ship was sent into a spiral. Even a hearty set of internal gravity generators couldn’t save Cade from growing dizzy. He struggled to reach out with his body being wretched in circles over and over. His eyes put up a fight to stay open, the contents of his skull feeling more akin to a stew than a solid brain. And - as if matters couldn’t get any worse - the clouds began to thin…

Cade’s mind struggled to register the fact that he had broken the cloud layer. A spinning mass of gray had been replaced with a spinning mass of green. His head was caving in, a pounding headache giving way to his eyes shutting. One last desperate bid to grab the stick, one last strained reach of an arm, one last chance…

Synthetic leather, in his paw. A rejuvenating burst of energy pulsed through the fox. Through a scrambled mind he managed to wrangle the stick back into some semblance of control. Enough to thrust his other paw onto it. What little strength he had left was invested right into yanking the stick into place, opposing the terminal roll his ship had been sent into.

Spinning colors of the planet’s surface slowed. Hazy green and obscured blots of dark brown. Cade yanked harder, hard enough to have instilled fear of breaking the steering system in any other situation. The death spin began to slow. Cade’s eyes managed to pry themselves open and the pure adrenaline pumping through his veins gave him the final sliver of energy required to bring the ship out of its spin. Relief poured into Cade’s clouded mind.

And relief was blown away nigh instantaneously. Saving himself from the spin hadn’t changed a thing about the fact that Cade was hurtling towards the surface at a speed so high that the dials of his gauge cluster went beyond their highest numbers. The surface was close. Too close, so much closer than it should’ve been. With the same hold that managed to save himself from the spin, Cade tugged the stick back towards him hard enough to slam it into his chest.

There was a near-deafening screech. Both the ship’s engines and frame screamed in protest to the sudden motion. Cade clenched his sharp teeth. A metallic tearing sounded off somewhere from the rear of his ship. His foot came slamming down onto a pedal and he yelled at the top of his lungs.

Mere moments to spare, the ship managed to straighten itself out. The whole thing rattled as its bottom side clipped a rusty smokestack. Cade almost fell out of his seat again. Industrial structures flew by in a blur around him. Whatever was left of the ship’s momentum had been sent to hurtling it forward instead. It grazed between smokestacks and long catwalks, missing some by mere inches.

Adrenaline flowing like water through his veins, Cade’s sweat-laden hands struggled to keep hold as he weaved between metal structures. With his attention darting from side to side, he hardly managed to notice the wall of piping he was hurtling towards. But when he did, he screamed out a curse and instead directed his arms to pulling back up once more.

A metal plate flung off the ship and slammed into the wall of pipes as Cade managed to pull the ship up into clear sky. Or, as Cade would come to realize as he collapsed back in his seat, an especially cloudy sky.

Stretching for miles in front of him was a vast expanse of metal and haze. The air was thick, tainted sickly green. Rain poured down and ran through the fog as if carrying it down to the surface - where it coagulated into a thicker mist. Old factories expanded into a horizon rendered near by fog, a complex dwarfing all else in scale. Cade’s weary eyes danced across it all. Not a single smokestack seemed to be in operation - some had even broken and collapsed. Everything was packed so dense as to disallow any comfortable ship landings.

Ring-ring. A screen off to the side lit up. CALL FROM: MR. B. Cade groaned and hit the accept call button.

“Our contact saw that pathetic entry of yours, Cade. You’re making an awful first impression.”

“As if they could’ve done any better,” Cade grumbled.

“You’ll be meeting them at clearing J-11,” Mr. B chugged on without skipping a beat. “It’s taken you long enough to arrive already. Get there quick, lest you taint the reputation of this organization even further. And clean yourself up, you look and sound like a mess.”

“Because our reputation is spotless as is.”

“Maybe it would be without inconsiderate units such as you.”

“Ouch, that burns,” Cade sneered. “Get your ass out here and enter an unregulated atmosphere through a pollution storm. Shouldn’t be a problem for a bird brain like you, yeah?”

“My job here-”

“Is to get me my money after I get this done for you.”

The hang up button received a hearty press. Bzt. Cade glanced around the area. From the edge of the fog, an abrupt cutoff in all the industry revealed itself. A big red sign jutted out from it, J-11. He directed his ship towards it.

It expanded down several stories. Down and down it went until terminating in a lengthy parking lot. Almost all of its spots went unfilled, minus the select few which held the corpses of long abandoned cars at rest. Coffins lined with faded white paint.

In the furthest corner stood out one vehicle in particular. A ship in pristine condition. Comparatively pristine, at the very least. Its design was sharp and bulky. A fighter. Wing-mounted cannons larger than a person and paint bearing its fair share of scorches and chips. There was a figure standing outside of it, doing some kind of work made unrecognizable by distance.

Cade reached to the side of his cockpit and flipped a lever down. With some loud cracks of opposition, the ship’s engines rotated to face upwards. “Hover mode engaged, landing gear deployed” was printed on the center console. A press of the left pedal ensued and the ship began to lower as Cade maneuvered it to hover a few spaces away from the fighter. He depressed the pedal with as much ease as he could, but then the ship’s engines sputtered a few feet from the ground.

The ship jolted and hit the ground. One of the legs of its landing gear failed to deploy. Cade grunted and stumbled out of the cockpit, his legs taking their precious time growing steady once more. He ran a double check over himself as he entered the main room. Gun, check. Ammo, check. Armor, check. Bag… Unchecked. Cade took a small detour across the living room, over to the holo-TV. His backpack wasn’t in the space he left it, instead having been tossed into the nearest corner.

He stepped over and kneeled in front of it. Inside was an array of little devices, gadgets and rations that he shuffled through. Though their arrangement had been scattered, none of them had broken. Cade breathed a sigh of relief, shut the bag and slung it over his back. But as he stood, a sudden flash of panic lit upon his face. He turned to the wall compartment and its door, flush with the surface around it. A step was taken towards it when-

Clang-clang!

Knocking on the ship’s cargo bay door. Cade looked back at the compartment only for the knocking to sound off again. Clang-clang-clang! Even harder that time. He bit his lip, cursed under his breath and took off towards the cargo door. An empty noodle cup caught itself under his foot and put him into a stumble, one he only stopped by reaching out and catching himself on the wall. One of his paws had hit a panel next to the cargo door, causing it to begin lowering.

A rush of noxious air came flooding in. Its presence spurred a cough out of the vulpine the instant it came in contact with his windpipe. His lungs were made ten times heavier in the blink of an eye. He fell forward against the wall and propped himself up with an arm. Tears welled up in his eyes. There was a knock on the outside of his door that only barely registered to his ears.

“You’re late.” A gruff voice, clouded behind a digital filter. “Didn’t even listen to the arrival broadcast, did you?”

Cade looked up through tear-filled eyes and bore witness to a tall, human man. Face concealed behind a bulky gas mask and body clad in heavy metal armor, he was near double the size of the small fox. Another gas mask hung from one of the man’s hands. It wasn’t as bulky, seemingly a standard model lacking in any advanced additions.

“Boss didn’t-” Cade tried to speak, but was wracked by another coughing fit. “...Didn’t warn me about this air, fuck!”

“Your eyes should’ve.” The man tossed the mask over to Cade, who fumbled and nearly dropped it. “Call me Steel.”

With shaky hands, Cade shoved the mask over his face. A deep breath through its filters allowed a wave of relief to wash over his lungs. The mask was loose on his face, though a seal around its edges adhered to his fur. Fresh air gave Cade the energy needed to regain his posture and step out from his ship. Rain pelted against the top of his hood as he did so.

“One hell of a name,” the fox said. “Real subtle.”

“Codename, smartass. What’s yours?”

“Cade. Something that sticks to the whole ‘normalcy’ shtick. Not tryin’ too hard to sound all tough-”

“Shut it.”

“Pfft. Struck a nerve there, huh? Noted.”

Steel gave nothing more than a growl before facing himself towards the open space beyond the lot. A train station stood a short distance away. Holes in its walls revealed that a passenger train - though rusted - remained idle within. Perpendicular to the tracks stretched a vast expanse of what used to be roadway, now reduced to mere fractured chunks of color-bleached concrete.

Alongside the road was a whole forest of dead trees, their colors muted to a similar degree. A good lot of them had been felled. Those that remained standing were either stripped bare or covered with dead branches like veins that clawed towards the sky. Deeper and deeper into the fog the road winded, the only sense of termination provided by a large structure obscured in fog.

“Ship’s out there,” Steel said. “According to my trackers.”

Cade nodded. “And is there any particular reason we had to land all the way out here, or was it just to get your steps in for the day?”

“Locals.”

“People live on this shithole?”

Steel let out a sigh. “The fuck did I just say?”

“It was a rhetorical question. Hell, you really are what it says on the tin.”

“That being..?”

“Dense.”

Though the lenses of his mask were tinted to the point of acting as shiny black walls, Steel’s glare burnt a hole into Cade. The fox opted to laugh it off. Steel, though unamused, directed the fox to follow him. Cade bent over to grab the door of his ship and slid it shut. It hissed as it sealed itself.

The duo set out on their way down the road. Steel drew a weapon from his back, a lever action laser rifle. Cade’s eager eyes affixed right onto it and he fell a pace or two behind. Slick black metal ending in sharp corners, its form invaded with duct tape and bundles of wires. An ejection port and feeding tube were present, though the latter had a charge package taped and welded into it. A rack holding three extra charge packs had been affixed to the side of the weapon.

Cade glanced down at the handgun on his hip and grumbled to himself. Instead of letting his eyes lock onto the other weapon once more, he forced himself to take a gander at the scenery. What little of it there was, at the very least…

Every now and then a road would splinter off and venture off into parts unknown. Or there’d be a road sign, or a billboard. Cade gave the billboards particular attention. Most had been worn by the elements to the point of illegibility. There were a select few that managed to stay just barely on the cusp of being comprehensible, though.

NixCo Cybernetically Enhanced Lungs!

Breathe better, live better with NixCo!

Ask about your local installation clinic today!

Bright colors - though dimmed by the elements - and a peppy cartoon human taking a nice, deep breath of air drawn so fresh Cade could almost feel it in his lungs. The pulsing inhales and exhales of the fox’s gas mask grounded him right back into reality, out of the ad’s own imitation of it. The reality where even reading the ad’s fine print was somewhat difficult from the noxious fog in the air. A shiver tickled his spine…

Miles dragged by. Steps faded into each other and became a blur of forward movement into swirling clouds of death. Steel hadn’t a word to say, and Cade’s head was still throbbing just enough to dismantle the idea of casual conversation. All their ears had was the booming of thunder overhead and the steady drone of rainfall. Their boots splashed in cloudy puddles of water. The monotony of it all kept Cade’s mind just as fogged as the planet he had found himself on.

“Snap out of it,” Steel barked, his voice shattering the glass of Cade’s focus like a hammer. “We’re just about there.”

The fox blinked and shook himself awake again. His paw pads were sore and his mouth yearned for a drink from within the confines of his mask. But one sign of tangible progress crammed itself into the forefront of his mind, pushing all else aside in the process.

Great walls of scrap metal. They were fashioned around something, but were tall enough to obscure vision inside. Light emanated from behind them and peeked through unsealed holes in the aged metal. Dotted along the walls were a handful of watchtowers. Spotlights shone down from them, swaying from side to side in rhythmic fashion. Banners had been hung atop each of the towers. They were tattered near the bottom, colored in a faded purple. Some royal-looking golden star was planted in the middle. There were stitches across each of the stars, the pattern of them uniform across every banner.

Cade stopped in his tracks. Steel kept walking a few paces forward before taking notice - at which point he too stopped. The man gave Cade an annoyed grunt. Cade grunted right back, only in an exaggerated mock fashion.

“Hold your horses, jackass,” Cade said. “How about we don’t walk right up to their front door?”

“Are you tired or something, wanna set up a picnic back here? Make the boss wait even longer for this godforsaken job to get done?” Steel bit back. “Hope you packed some sandwiches then, because I didn’t pack for a pleasant afternoon getaway.”

“No, I wanna make sure we know what we’re getting into before we go storming in.”

Steel huffed, but stayed in place. Cade shook his head and removed his backpack, placing it on the ground in front of him. He rummaged through it for a moment and took a pair of binoculars out. They were a bit awkward to press against his mask and didn’t provide the best view of things, but he made it work just enough to observe the towers ahead.

Within each tower was an armed individual. All of them carried aged bolt-action rifles. Too old to be laser weapons, Cade reasoned. Scrap metal armor adorned their bodies, painted a knightly shade of silver. They weren’t operating the spotlights, those moved on their own. Cade trailed the binoculars downward with the beam of one, down to the base of the walls. The main entrance was hard to miss. A large set of double doors. About as ornate as scrap possibly could be. Guards stood post outside it, armed with… swords?

Cade removed the binoculars from his eyes. “Lots of guards.”

“Lots? Let me be the judge of that.” Steel snatched the binoculars from Cade’s paw and began examining the place. “Hmphf, odd choice of weapons this lot uses.”

“Old ones, doesn’t seem like they get out much.”

Steel held the binoculars down, but didn’t gesture them out towards Cade. The fox took it upon himself to swipe the pair back for himself, tucking them in his bag right away. Steel responded by drawing his rifle and aiming it towards a tower.

“I’ll take out the guys in the towers, you move in and-”

“That’s stupid,” Cade interrupted. “Are you stupid? Shoot one of ‘em and the rest can trail that laser back here and shoot us both, bonehead.”

“Not if we take them out fast enough.”

“Okay, yeah. You’re stupid.” Cade sighed. “How about this; you stay here and cover me. Just - get behind a tree or something. I’ll head in and talk to those guys at the gate, see what’s goin’ on. And then, if they shoot me, you can do all the blasting your little heart desires, yeah?”

Steel groaned. “Gotta make a problem out of everything… Fine. But let it be known I’m not risking myself to save you if you get in over your head, fox.”

“Trust me, big guy,” Cade teased. “I got this~”

[Stay tuned for Chapter 2, hopefully coming within the next few weeks. Feedback is welcome & encouraged, this is my first time ever posting an original story I've written :3]

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